The Truth About Growing Up
by YesIWriteForFun
Summary: Jace Herondale and Clary Fray meet on the first day of kindergaten and instantly click. They become best friends and help each other through everything. Follow along with their story as they grow up and find out that sometimes friendship's aren't what you think. (Previously titled, "Jace Herondale as a Child")
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! So, if you're reading my story, Letting Her In, then you'll know that in my last chapter I mentioned I had some oneshot ideas floating around in my head. This is one of them! Basically, I came up with this idea at work one night. I work in a really nice restuarant and one night there were two serperate children that came in, and both made me think of Jace. One was just a baby, but he had this head of curly blond hair that was so adorable! The other was a British boy with the same curly blond locks and he was probably about ten years old. I'm not sure why, but these two kids got me thinking about what Jace would be like as a kid. The restuarant setting should be self explanitory, haha. As I mentioned, I have an idea of how I can turn this into a full out story if people want me to. The only thing is, I would change the title and I probably wouldn't really work on it much until I finish Letting Her In. But, let me know if you think this could turn into a good story. Sorry for rambling!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TMI or its characters...not even little Jace :(**

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Jace yanked on his tie for what seemed like the thousandth time, and Celine promptly leaned down to fix it for what seemed like the thousandth time. "Jace," she said in a stern voice. "We've told you this; You need to stop playing with your tie. We want you to look your best, which means your tie needs to be nice and straight. Okay, honey?"

Jace's fingers twitched with the need to loosen his tie. "But, _Mom!_" Jace whined. "I can't breath!" To emphasize his point, he put his hands to his throat in a chocking gesture and started fake gagging.

Celine merely rolled her eyes, for she had long ago grown used to his games. She learned it's best not to play into him, because it feeds his ego-which is already more swollen than any other seven year olds. She grabbed his hand and led him into the restaurant where Stephen had already gotten them a table.

The restaurant was nicer than most that the family had gone to lately. Stephen and Celine used to go to restaurants like this all the time before Jace was born, but then they had him and he was too young, loud and misbehaved to bring to restaurants as nice as this one. But now he was seven years old and had been calming down considerably, so they figured that it was worth a shot. They had been warning him all evening that he needed to be on his best behavior. Now they could only pray that he listened.

The inside of the restaurant was gorgeous, with high ceilings and flowers all over the place. There were windows decorating the majority of each wall, allowing the rays of the setting sun to stream into the restaurant and create a nice ambiance. All of the staff were dressed formally in black dress pants, white button down shirts and black ties. Jace noticed none of this though, because he was much too focused on how he could get his tie off without his mother noticing.

He could deal with the way the dress shoes pinched his toes a little, and he didn't complain when his mother forced him into a shirt and pants that were just a little too tight on his ever growing body, but a tie that made him feel like he couldn't breathe is where he drew the line. His parents told him to be on his best behavior and he had promised he would. He didn't plan on breaking that promise, but taking off his tie wasn't really _bad_ behavior. Right?

Jace reached up to yank on his tie, but his mother automatically said, "No." Jace blanched. She wasn't even looking at him! How could she see that? Jace angrily crossed his arms over his chest, huffing in defeat. Fine. He'd just have to suck it up and suffocate through the whole dinner. For a moment, he hoped that he would pass out from lack of oxygen, just to show his mom that his tie really _was_ too tight.

Jace was brought out of his brooding by the waiter coming over. Jace didn't really care about what he had to say, so he promptly tuned him out and focused all his attention on the bread that the waiter had brought over. Jace pulled the basket toward him and grabbed a slice. He was shoving it in his mouth when his mother turned toward him with an exasperated look. "Jace," she said. She was trying to sound patient, but Jace knew better. What he didn't know, was what he did to make her lose her patience.

"Yes, Mom?" he said through a mouth full of bread. Shoot! He realized right after he did it that he probably shouldn't have talked with his mouth full. Oh well. Too late now.

"Do you want a glass of lemonade?"

Jace finished chewing and then nodded. "Yes please."

Celine looked relieved that Jace had at least remembered some of his manners. She turned to the waiter and spoke to him again. The waiter wrote something down and then walked away. Celine scooted her chair closer to Jace and held her menu down so he could see it. "Okay, honey, what do you want?"

Jace squinted at the menu and scanned it's contents-well, at least the contents of it that he could actually read. Suddenly, one of the choices caught his eye. "THEY HAVE DUCKS HERE?" Jace exclaimed loudly, his voice filled with genuine fear. He started whipping his head around violently, trying desperately to find where they hid the vile creatures.

Celine put a reassuring hand on his back and his terror filled eyes met her calm ones. "No, no, honey. Don't worry, there are no ducks here. Duck is a choice on the menu. They cook it and you can eat it, just like chicken."

Jace nodded slowly and blinked a few times to get rid of the tears that had started to come to his eyes. "Right," he said with mock confidence. "I knew that."

Celine and Stephen shared an amused glance. Celine turned back to Jace. "Now, what else on here catches your eye?"

Jace took a deep breath and looked back at the menu. "That," he said and put his finger on one of the choices.

Celine looked to see what Jace was referring to. "The pizza? Okay, honey. That's fine, but it isn't like the pizza we normally eat. It's a little…," she paused to search for the right word, "…fancier."

Jace shrugged. "Whatever." He showed that he thought the discussion was over by reaching across the table to get more bread. His parents took the hint and launched into a conversation about their respective days.

Jace quickly finished his piece of bread and looked around the restaurant for something else to occupy him. He decided that he would people watch because that was something that normally amused him. He scanned the crowded restaurant and frowned. All of the people there were boring and stuffy. None of them seemed remotely interesting.

Then he looked a few tables over to his left.

There sat a family that seemed similar to his. There were two parents that seemed to be about the same age as his mom and dad, as well as two children. One was a boy a few years older than Jace. He had white blond hair that matched his fathers. Next to him sat a girl that looked to be about Jace's age, but it was hard to tell because she was so tiny. She had a mop of fiery red curls sitting atop her head. Just like Jace, she was looking around the restaurant, seemingly bored.

Jace couldn't stop staring at the girl. He had never seen a girl like her. Usually he had this unquestionable repulsion to girls and had no desire to have anything to do with them. This girl was different. Jace had the strangest urge to go talk to her. He wanted to know what her laugh sounded like, what her smile looked like. He wanted to know what color her eyes were, for he was too far away to see from where he was. There was no way this girl had cooties. Jace was sure that she had received her cooties shots. How else could she seem so irresistible? Jace even wondered if she wasn't a she at all, but a he. No, he may not have the best sight of her, but he could see that she was very obviously a girl.

Jace was infatuated with this girl. He snuck glances at her throughout the entire dinner. He was pleased to see that she had gotten the pizza too. When he wasn't looking at her, he was secretly planning ways to be able to talk to her.

He never did get a chance to talk to her. He walked out of that restaurant thinking that he would never see this wonderful girl again. He thought he would never know what her smile looked like or what it sounded like when she laughed.

He was wrong.

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**Thank you all for reading and I hope you liked it! It was definitely fun to write! Please review and let me know what you think and if it should become a story! Also, if you haven't already, check out my story Letting Her In!**

**Love always,**

**YesIWriteForFun**


	2. Author's Note (Sorry!)

**Hey, guys! So, I've decided that I'm definitely turning this into a story, and I am super excited about it! I'm sorry that I like, faked you guys out with this Author's Note, but I had to get your guys' opinion before I could go any further in the story. I'm kind of at a crossroads here, so just let me know which one you guys would want to read more. (Keep in mind, these aren't the plot ideas I'm tossing around, just the type of relationship Clary and Jace have and then the plot will fall in place around it.)**

**Option A: Jace and Clary grow up to be really, really close friends. They're even closer than Simon and her are in canon. Their friendship is totally platonic...or is it? (Hint, hint, wink, wink) Even though they're friends, they do pick on each other and whatnot.**

**Option B: Clary and Jace are frenemies of sorts. Jace has always picked on Clary in school (NOT bullied her, because I don't want to write a story like that) and Clary isn't afraid to give it right back to him. They both get on each other's nerves, but it's all good-natured. Well, mostly.**

**So, let me know which storyline you guys would be more interested in reading! I'm personally leaning towards option A because I feel like option B is kind of overdone, but I'm not the one reading the story, so I'm leaving it up to you guys! On that note, I PROMISE I will update soon! However, the sooner you guys tell me which option you want the sooner I can update... ;)**

**Thanks guys!**

**Love always,**

**YesIWriteForFun **


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey, everyone! I told you I'd be updating soon! So, you guys chose option A! Yay! I'm really sorry if you chose option B, but I promise that you'll love this story just the same! You guys don't know how excited I am for this story! Seriously! I'm liked, pumped to be writing this! More information on what this story is going to look like at the end of the chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments, or it's characters. I simply own the plot expressed in this story.**

**Chapter 2:**

Once again Jace found himself fidgeting in his clothes, wanting nothing more than to rip them off. They were just small enough on his ever growing body to make him slightly uncomfortable. But what could his parents do? The kid grew like a weed, and his parents had bought these pants and sweater only a month ago.

"Jace," his mother said, half exasperated, half amused. "Will you please stop wiggling for a minute so I can take you picture?"

Jace flopped himself down on the couch with all the grace of a seven year old boy. "You don't need a picture of me, Mom."

Celine resisted the urge to throw up her hands. "Jace," she said with the type of forced patience that came with repeating yourself. "This is a big day. It's your first day of kindergarten."

"No. I'm not going," Jace said with a cross of his arms.

Celine was about to argue with him, but stopped when she saw tears rim her normally tough as nails son's eyes. "Oh, honey. What's wrong?" she asked as she sat next to him.

Jace wiped a quick hand against his cheeks, always trying to appear tough. "They're going to make fun of me, Momma."

Celine pulled Jace onto her lap and ran a hand over his blond locks. "Why would they do that, my dear?"

Jace sniffled. "Because I'm older than they are."

Celine pulled away from Jace enough to force him to look her in the eyes. "Jonathan Christopher Herondale, you listen to me. There is nothing wrong with being a little older than the other children. All it means is that you're a little more mature than they are."

Jace sniffed again. "They'll make fun of me."

"Then that will just prove that you're more mature than they are. Don't you worry about it, honey. If anyone gives you too much trouble, then you tell me and I'll go in and kick their butt."

Jace giggled a little. "Mom," he laughed.

"What?" Celine played along. "You don't think I could take them?"

Jace looked her up and down with a pensive expression. Finally, he said, "No. You're kind of wimpy."

Celine burst out into uproarious laughter. "Wimpy?" she mocked. "I'll show you wimpy. Come here!" She reached over and grabbed him, trying to tickle him but he jumped up before she could catch him. He ran around the house, giggling and she chased after him.

Their play came to an abrupt halt when Jace ran head first into his father. "Whoa, there," Stephen said, setting a steadying hand on his still giggling son. Stephen looked up and quirked an amused eyebrow at Celine. _Later_, she mouthed. With a nod of his head, Stephen refocused his attention on his son. "You weren't going to leave without your special show-and-tell item were you?"

Being the first day of school, each student was encouraged to bring in something special to them and then they could show it to the class. Jace's mouth fell into a little "O" shape. "No!" he said. "I forgot!"

Stephen gave his son a loving smile and said, "That's what I thought." He pulled his other hand out from behind his back, revealing a small stuffed falcon.

"I can't believe you forgot Valentine!" Celine exclaimed with mock horror. Jace reached out and snatched the falcon out from his father's hand and hugged it to his chest. Celine crouched down in front of him so that they were eye to eye. "Can I take a picture of you if Valentine gets to be in it?"

Jace nodded silently. With a smile, Celine took his hand and stood him in front of the fireplace. She turned the camera on and smiled. "Say, 'Cheese!'" Jace complied and gave the camera a toothless grin.

Celine set the camera back down and walked over to Jace giving him a tight squeeze. "I have to go get ready for work, honey, but your daddy's going to get you on the bus. Okay?" Jace nodded. Celine plopped a loud kiss on his cheek. "You have a great day, Jace. I love you!"

Jace turned slightly red. "I love you too, Momma."

With one last teary-eyed smile, Celine stood up and walked over to her husband. She gave him a kiss on his cheek and whispered something in his ear that Jace couldn't hear. Stephen responded with a solemn nod and a squeeze of her hand. Then he turned to Jace. "Ready to go, kid?"

Jace perked up, excited to spend time with his father. He was definitely a man's man-he loved spending time with his dad, helping him fix things. That doesn't mean he didn't love getting spoiled and babied by his mother.

Stephen took Jace's hand and walked him over to the door. Jace picked up his Power Rangers backpack and tried to put it on himself. This was quite difficult with the combination of Valentine in his hands and his long, uncoordinated arms. Stephen laughed quietly to himself and helped Jace slip the straps onto his shoulders. Jace tried to seem annoyed, as though he didn't need the help, but secretly he was grateful.

With one of Jace's hands claimed by his father's and the other clutching onto his best friend, he made his way down the driveway just as the bus pulled up. At the end of the driveway Stephen let go of Jace's hand and ruffled his hair. "You be good today, okay, kid?"

Jace nodded. "Yes, Dad."

"Love you, Jacey."

Jace blushed once again, hoping no one on the bus heard. "Love you too," he mumbled, then ran off toward the bus.

The kindergarten classroom was bright and filled with anything and everything having to do with education. The students were sitting in a circle on an overly bright carpet, each of them clutching something tightly to their chest. Jace was seated next to a quiet boy who he had met once before. His name was Alec Lightwood and their parents were very close friends. Beside Alec was his twin sister, Isabelle. On Jace's right was an obnoxious girl named Aline. Jace had tried to ditch her several times, but she was persistent.

None of these people were the ones that had all of Jace's attention though. Directly across from him in the circle was a very tiny girl with a mop of fire atop her head. She was the girl Jace had seen in the restaurant over the summer-the one with the cooties shot. Jace had tried to catch her name, but Aline had been talking to him and he had missed it. He would get it this time though. They were all going around the circle, saying their name and talking about the precious item in their lap.

Jace decided that he didn't like their teacher, Mrs. Verlac. She had a funny accent that only came through here or there. Plus, she had made Jace say his age in front of the entire class when they had gone around and introduced themselves. On the bright side, no one had said a word about it. It turns out he isn't the only seven year old in the class.

Jace's focus snapped back to attention when the first person went. He had to pay attention, so that he could catch her name. The first person to go was someone named Magnus Bane. He was tall, about as tall as Jace, and had eyes that reminded Jace of a cat. Jace found that funny, because Magnus's show-and-tell item was a picture of his pet cat, which he called Chairman Meow.

After Magnus were a few loud girls that stood out to Jace in absolutely no way. Then a quiet boy stood up on shaky legs. He had been talking to the girl all day. His name was Simon and he had wire framed glasses and messy hair that fell in his eyes every time he pushed it back. He had a pin with a Star of David on it. He mumbled a story about how it had belonged to his father, who had died two years ago.

Then it was her turn. Jace leaned forward in anticipation. She cleared her throat and looked around with nervous eyes. Her eyes locked on Jace's for a split second before flitting away. "My name is Clary Fray," she stated in a strong voice. "And this is my sketchbook." She help up a spiral book and turned it around so that everyone in the circle could see. She kept the cover forward so no one could see the drawings inside. "My mom is an artist. She taught me to draw when I was three. She helps me with my pictures."

Mrs. Verlac gives Clary a warm smile. "That's very nice, Clary."

_Clary_. The name echoed in Jace's head. He decided that he really liked that name.

A few more people went, and then it was Jace's turn. He stood up, his legs not shaking in the slightest. He was confident, completely unfazed by all the pairs of eyes on him. "My name is Jace Herondale." He picked up Valentine and held him up for everyone to see. "This is my falcon, Valentine. My mom-" Jace was interrupted by someone snickering.

It was a boy who had already gone. Jace thought he remembered hearing that his name was Sebastian. "You're seven years old, and you still play with stuffed animals? Those are for girls!"

Jace felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over. "No they aren't."

Mrs. Verlac told the boys to stop, but Sebastian wouldn't listen. "Are you a girl, Jace?"

Jace tilted his chin up, trying to appear strong. "No."

"Jace is a girl!" Sebastian taunted.

Jace couldn't take anymore. "Mrs. Verlac, can I go to the bathroom?" he blurted out. He didn't wait for a response before he ran out the door, glad that the bathrooms were just across the hall. Jace burst through the door to the boys room and sank to the floor. He couldn't keep the tears back anymore. They leaked down his cheeks and quiet sobs racked his small body.

He jumped when the door burst open. He tried to quickly wipe the tears away, but stopped in surprise. A girl had come in. Actually, _Clary_ had come in.

Jace quickly went back to wiping at his eyes, not wanting her to see him cry. "You aren't supposed to be in here," he sniffled. "This is the boys room."

Through blurry eyes he saw Clary shrug. "I'm already in trouble for running out. If Mrs. Verlac didn't have a mess with Sebastian then I'd be in worse trouble."

Jace sniffed again. "Why are you in here?"

Clary looked uncomfortable. A soft blush crept up her cheeks. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," she said.

Jace narrowed his eyes at her. "Why do you care?"

Clary tipped up her head in confidence. "No one deserves to be treated that way. Besides, I really like Valentine. He's cute."

Jace smiled a little. "Thanks." He looked down at the sketchbook in her hands. "Can I see some of your drawings?"

Clary hesitated, then nodded, handing him the book. Jace flipped through them. They were really good. Probably more at the level of a fourth grader than a kindergartener. "You're a good drawer," Jace stated, handing the book back to her.

Clary blushed again and mumbled a thanks.

Unsure what to say in the silence, Jace blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "You're hair is different."

Clary folded her arms over her chest. "Like you're one to talk, Goldilocks."

Jace and Clary were locked in an intense staring contest, until they both suddenly burst into laughter. Soon they were both on the floor because they were laughing so hard. Clary leaned her head on Jace's shoulder in an attempt to breathe again. "I meant it in a good way," Jace clarified once he was able to speak. "I think your hair is pretty."

Clary blushed again. "Thank you," she mumbled. Then she stood up and brushed herself off. "We should get back before we get into trouble."

Jace nodded and stood up. "Clary?" he said just before she opened the door. She turned around to look at him. Jace caught her off guard by wrapping her in a tight embrace. "Thank you. You're a good friend."

Clary laughed and hugged him back. "You should meet Simon! I think you'll like him."

Jace opened the door and they both walked out. "And you should meet Alec and Izzy. You'll like them."

They were both wrong. Alec was not a big fan of the feisty redhead, and Simon looked at Jace as competition for his best friend. However, Clary and Izzy, they did like each other. Mostly.

Later that night, when Jace got home, he shoved Valentine into the back of his closet, where he would forget about him for years. Then, at the dinner table, Stephen and Celine asked Jace about his first day of school. He told them it was awful, but merely shrugged when they asked why. Then he distracted them from the topic by telling them he made a friend named Clarissa Fray.

He was much too young to notice the knowing look they shared.

**Howdy, y'all! Are you guys as upset as I am over a sad little Jace? I mean seriously, can I use that rune for a broken heart now? :( I digress...I hope you guys are okay with a few more young Clary and Jace chapters? Like, probably at least two, but they'll be a little older each time. What I really wanted to do with this story was have the characters have big back stories, but I didn't want to just, like, tell you guys their story, yanno? I really wanted you guys to see their relationship develope and understand why they are who they are as people. So, yeah, a few more young chapters, but the major story part of this story will be them at age like seventeen or eighteen.**

**Please review and let me know what you think! I'm going to start typing the next chapter right now, but, I want these chapters to be a bit longer than my chapters for "Letting Her In," so they take longer to type. As usual, reviews do tend to speed up the updating process ;)**

**Love always,**

**YesIWriteForFun**

**P.S. I wanted to get into the spirit of my childhood while writing this, so I'm listening to the Pandora 2000s pop station, hahaha. All I can say is, Justin Timberlake, you are most definitely bringing Sexy Back ;)**


	4. Chapter 3

**All I'm going to say is, PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!**

**Disclaimer: My name is not Cassandra Clare. 'Nough said.**

**Chapter 3:**

Jace sat atop of the hill, not worried about getting grass stains on his good dress pants; who would yell at him? The grass was dry from the cold, and the leaves of the trees were surrounding him on the ground. He thought it might have been snowing a little, but it didn't bother him. He just pulled his knees up to his chest, rested his chin on them, and stared. He was still staring down the hill toward the cemetery, thinking about how the two most freshly dug graves belonged to his mom and dad, when Clary came up to him. He wasn't surprised that she was there; Clary was always there.

He braced himself to hear it. _I'm sorry_. People had been repeating it to him over and over, all day long. Besides other things like _poor boy_, and _he's only ten_, it seemed it was all he had been hearing all day. He didn't want to hear it-no, he _couldn't_ hear it come from Clary.

Lucky for him he wouldn't have to. Clary plopped herself down into the grass next to him. She stretched out her pale legs, which looked paler because of her black dress and crossed them at the ankles. They sat in absolute silence for a few minutes, neither of them uncomfortable.

Then, just as sudden as a young death, Jace broke into hysterics. Tears poured from his eyes and his entire body shook with choking sobs. Still, Clary said nothing. She scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling his head to her chest. She stroked his now wet golden locks.

"What am I going to do, Clary?" He chocked out after a while, looking up at her with broken eyes.

Most people would have said something along the lines of, "Move on," or "Find a way to keep going," or some other type of crap. But Clary wasn't a liar, and she had all the tact of a ten year old. "You live, Jace," she stated simply. "You live."

Jace accepted this answer with open arms.

No one came to get them. Adults were surely nearby and knew where they were, but no one would dare deny Jace what he wanted on this day. So they let Jace and Clary sit there for as long as they wanted. But eventually, it definitely started to snow. Clary tried not to, but she started shivering. It was the stupid little dress she was wearing; it offered no protection from the cold.

Keeping the theme of that day, Jace wordlessly shrugged off his fleece jacket and stood up. Clary stood too, willing to go along with whatever Jace wanted. Jace handed her his jacket. Clary took it and put it on without a thanks. None was needed in a relationship without words.

The paperwork was the worst part, Clary thought. It took about a week for it to be totally finished, and she didn't hear Jace say one word throughout the whole process. Around them, she would hear everyone saying how strong he was, how well he was doing. She knew that Jace heard them too. She also knew that they were wrong. Jace was whole new levels of broken, but he just refused to show it. He hated looking weak, so he didn't cry. He didn't whine. He just kept on going, showing no emotion at all.

The Lightwoods were nice. They loved Jace-anyone could tell you that. But they were hurting too. They had lost their best friends. And they were in no position to take on another child.

Maryse and Robert had their hands full with bickering twins Alec and Isabelle, and a three year old Max. They couldn't give Jace the special attention he so desperately needed at a time like this. Not that they treated him differently. He just didn't get the love that a kid who lost his parents should.

Nonetheless, they were the closest thing to parents Jace had left, and they were his Godparents, so by law they were supposed to take him in. It wasn't necessary that they adopt him, but Maryse and Robert insisted that it was. Clary really liked them for that, and-though he refused to admit it-Jace did too.

Clary didn't see Jace that whole week, but that wasn't by either of their choice. Clary had to keep going to school, and Jace was busy all the time with moving and adoption paperwork and everything else that sucks.

When that next Monday came around and Jace came back to school with Alec and Izzy, he still hadn't said a word to anyone. People stared at him everywhere he went. Eyes followed him as he walked down the hallways. When he walked into his third grade classroom, his teacher gave him a too tight hug, that he didn't really return.

When his teacher released him he walked straight across the classroom toward Clary, and spoke his first words in weeks. "I missed you." Then he wrapped her in a hug as tight as their first.

"Jace," Maryse sighed, running a hand over her face. "We've been over this. You can't keep acting out in class."

Jace's jaw clenched in frustration. "I wasn't acting out!"

Maryse raised her volume to match Jace's. "You punched another boy in the face!"

Jace's hands shook, he was so angry. "Sebastian had it coming," he said with forced calm.

Maryse shook her head. "There is no way-"

"He said it was my fault!" Jace blurted out. "He said it was my fault they're dead!" Had Jace still been able to cry, he may have cried as he said this. But he ran out of tears at the funeral.

Maryse sighed again, this time in sympathy. "Oh, Jace," she crooned, crouching down to meet his eyes. "You know that that isn't true."

Jace just shrugged, opting for silence.

"Jonathan Christopher Herondale, will you look at me?" He had refused to take the name Lightwood. All he really had left of his parents was their name, and he wasn't giving that up. With slight hesitation, he looked up to meet her eyes. "You know it wasn't your fault. You know that it was an accident." Her voice was soft. Jace always forgets that the car crash that took his parents two months ago took her best friends too.

"I know," he replied in an equally soft voice. "But it still hurts to hear."

Maryse enveloped her newest son in a hug. "I know, honey. I know."

"I'm sorry," Jace said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Robert and Maryse stared at him from the couch across the living room. "'Sorry' isn't going to work much longer, Jace," Robert said in a stern voice.

Jace saw this coming. He was getting used to this. He couldn't do anything right in the eyes of his adoptive parents. But how could he? He wasn't their own flesh and blood like Alec and Isabelle, so how could he instinctually know how to be perfect for them?

Maryse sighed loudly when Jace didn't respond. "We've been cutting you some slack, Jace, because of what you've been through, but it has been a year. A year! You can't use their death as an-" Maryse abruptly cut herself off.

Jace looked up at her with narrow eyes. "As what? An excuse? Look, I know that I shouldn't have done it, but I wasn't thinking. I made a mistake."

Robert shook his head. "You're saying you mistakenly let out the class pet?"

Jace shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I didn't know it wasn't allowed. The tank didn't have a lid on it, so I assumed people did it all the time. Besides, how was I supposed to know that a turtle would bite someone?"

"You keep coming up with all these excuses, Jace. You have an excuse for everything don't you?"

Jace had no response to that.

Maryse spoke up again. "You're grounded for a week. But the next time you act out in class, you're in for a whole lot more trouble than that."

"Yes, ma'am," Jace said, effectively put in his place. Then he walked upstairs to his bedroom, praying tomorrow would come fast.

Clary was there, every single day. Every time Jace got in trouble in class, she was there, right by his side, defending him until the end. When he'd get into trouble at home, she was there to listen to him vent the next day. And she would always agree. Always. Even if she didn't really agree.

When he came in the day after what they liked to refer to as "the last straw" she told him she would help him out. "I'll stick by your side, and make sure you don't get yourself into trouble. If I see you about to do something bad I'll…" Clary trailed off, attempting to come up with a method to stop him.

"Spray me with water?" Jace joked.

Clary swatted him on the shoulder. "No. I don't know, I'll stop you. Take this seriously Jace! I'm sick of you getting grounded, because then I have to hang out with Simon, and he's boring."

Simon, who was sitting next to her, exclaimed, "Hey!"

Clary giggled and gave him a hug from the side. "You know I'm kidding, Simon." She turned back to Jace. "Really, Jace. Do you want to keep getting into trouble with them?" She and Jace both knew what she really meant: do you want to keep disappointing them? It was a low blow, and maybe not true, but it was a soft spot for Jace and she knew that.

He knew that she knew that. "Fine. If you catch me doing something bad, stop me." Jace didn't need to say thank you for Clary to know that he was grateful.

**You guys don't hate me, do you? I PROMISE I do everything for a reason! And trust me, you guys weren't the only ones this chapter affected. I was literally like, crying writing this! This chapter is me building up Jace's character. I know that this chapter is a little jumpy, but I promis the actual story won't be like this. This is like a prologue of sorts. The actual story will also be in first person, Jace POV, just so you know. I'm planning on one more of these young Clace chapters before I get into the actual story. I feel like there was more I wanted to explain and say...but I forgot...**

**As usual, reviews=encouragement. Encouragement=faster updates. Can you guys take a hint? ;)**

**Love always,**

**YesIWriteForFun**

**P.S. A guest that goes by the name of Candy, there was a special little part of this chapter that goes out to you ;)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Have I mentioned yet that you guys are the best? Seriously, your reviews make me so happy! I literally tear up reading some of the things you guys say! So, thank you for all your kind wishes! :) This is the last young Clace chapter, and it's pretty bitterweet. On one hand, it was super fun to write about them at young ages. On the other, it's even more fun to write in 18 year old Jace's POV ;) **

**Okay, I'm just going to ramble for a minute. I saw The Mortal Instruments movie in the spring, but for some reason I've been thinking about it lately. I just want to complain to people who understand. HOW CAN THE NERD BE A THOUSAND TIMES HOTTER THAN THE GUY WHO'S BASICALLY CHARACTERIZED BY HIS AMAZING LOOKS?! *phew* Glad I got that off my cheast. I mean, Jamie Campbell Bower as an actor was the PERFECT Jace in my opinion, but I CANNOT get over his looks. Sorry for ranting, haha. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: What? Something miraculously changed since last chapter and now I own The Mortal Instruments? Oh wait...nevermind...**

**XXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 4:**

"Look, Aline, I'm not saying it's over, because for it to be over, it would have had to have started. Which it didn't." Jace was leaning casually against his locker as he spoke, seemingly unconcerned with the hysterical girl in front of him.

"Um, are you really that dense? I think it definitely-"

Jace cut her off with a shake of his head. "Making out after a football game is not the start of something. That's just making out after a football game."

Aline flinched at the tone of his voice. "You're a real jerk, you know that?"

Jace finally met her eyes and gave her a smirk. "You aren't the first to ask me that." Maybe it was because her own eyes were filled with tears, but Aline-and all the other girls for that matter-never really saw Jace's eyes. Sure, they fell victim to the pools of gold, but they didn't really see what was in his eyes. They never saw the pure pain that came from trauma. They never saw the hurt, because they were too focused on their own. They never saw how much he hated himself as he spoke. But Clary sure did.

"Jace," she said in a quiet voice, touching a hand to his shoulder. He jumped. He had been staring off after Aline, even though she had walked away and out of sight a good minute ago.

"Oh, hey, Clary. Sorry, I didn't hear you walk up."

Clary ignored his falsities. Instead, she leaned her head on his arm-his shoulder long ago grew out of her reach when they were standing. "I didn't like that one anyway."

Jace laughed and squeezed her hand, again showing gratitude with no words. "Yeah, I didn't either. Hence the reason she's not still around." Jace turned around and opened his locker. Clary leaned against the locker next to his without fear of anyone coming up to claim it. She spent enough time in that exact position to know that it was empty.

"Jace, what are you doing?"

Jace arched an eyebrow at her. "Getting my math book?"

Clary shook her head. "You're thirteen, Jace. Why don't you take a break from all the girls?"

Jace laughed and closed his locker. "Why? Are you jealous?"

Clary turned on Jace with a steely expression. "Jace. I'm not joking anymore. You're thirteen and you've already gone through half the grade! If you keep this up, you'll be done with the entire female population of the school by the time you graduate!"

Jace's expression sobered. "Not the entire female population. He turned toward Clary. "I wouldn't dare hurt you like that, silly Clary."

Clary's fists squeezed together in frustration. "Aline's right. You are a jerk." Then she stormed off and didn't speak to him for the rest of the day.

Or the rest of the week.

When Saturday afternoon rolled around, Jace stood on Clary's doorstep, unsure of himself. He raised a sweaty fist and knocked. He hadn't knocked on her door since the first time he came to her house.

Jocelyn opened the door. "Jace," she said. "Clary said you weren't going to be able to make it this week?" Jocelyn threw a questioning look at Clary over her shoulder, who was glaring daggers at Jace.

Jace shifted on his feet and whipped his hands off on his jeans. "Um, well, there was a change of plans. Am I still invited?"

Clary opened her mouth to protest, but Jocelyn beat her. "Of course, honey! You know you're always welcome here! Dinner will be ready in about a half hour."

Jace mumbled a thank you and walked into the Fray's apartment. He didn't hesitate as he walked straight into Clary's bedroom to set his bag down.

Ever since they became friends, Clary and Jace had a Saturday tradition. Jace would come over in the afternoon, eat dinner with the Fray's, then they would have a sleep over. They had to sleep in the same room because all three bedroom's were occupied by Clary, her parents, and her older brother, Jonathan.

Sunday morning, Jocelyn would make them pancakes and they would watch cartoons in their pajamas. They both looked forward to this all week. But it seems that this week, Clary was dreading it more than she was anticipating it.

Clary followed Jace into her bedroom and closed the door behind them. Jace took that as a bad sign-usually Clary had no problem with her mom and stepfather, Luke, overhearing any of their conversations. "We need to talk." Her voice was ice.

Jace sat on the edge of her bed and swallowed hard. Times like these, Jace wasn't afraid to admit that he was terrified of his miniature, redhead friend. "I know," he said.

Clary rolled over her desk chair and plopped down in front of him. "Jace, you know that I care about you, right?"

That wasn't how Jace expected the conversation to go. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "I know."

Clary shifted a bit, looking uncomfortable. "People started calling you…bad names."

Now Jace was really listening. "Bad names? Like what?"

Clary bit her lip. "Man whore."

Jace flinched a bit at the accusation.

Clary scooted her chair a bit closer to him. "I know that it bothers you, Jace. Don't lie."

Now Jace looked uncomfortable. He could never fool Clary.

"I want to help you fix it. Do you want to fix it?"

"I don't want people to think that about me."

Clary smiled, glad to be getting through to him, at least a little. "Then you have to stop it with all these girls. You're only thirteen. When you get to be like seventeen or eighteen, you can go ahead and do whatever you want with whoever you want. But when you do that stuff with girls when you're thirteen, then people just think it's gross."

Jace didn't want to look up from his hands in his lap. "You know why I do it, Clary. I don't want to lose that."

Clary took a deep breath. "I know that it makes you feel loved, Jace, but you don't need cheap girls like Aline to make you feel loved. Not when you have me right here. I love you more than any of those sluts ever will."

Jace smiled a bit at hearing Clary call someone a slut. She wasn't big on terms like that, so it was always weird to hear her use them. Jace took his sweet time to ponder her words. Finally, he came to a decision. "Okay. I'll stop with the girls until I'm like, sixteen. But only on one condition."

Clary smiled. "What?"

Jace leaned in close to make sure he got his point across. "I get say in who you can and can't date."

Clary heard him, loud and clear. "Excuse me?"

Jace leaned back and let his famous smirk fall into place over his lips. "You heard me."

Clary got that stubborn look on her face. Her nose scrunched up, her cheeks got a little red, and her eyebrows knitted together. "What gives you the right-"

Jace cut her off. "You want me to lay off the girls, or not?"

Clary groaned dramatically. "Fine!" Jace stuck out his hand, and they shook. It was a deal.

Jace kept his promise, and Clary, well, she didn't really have to worry about keeping hers-guys tended to either look at her as a friend, or avoid her completely.

On Jace's sixteenth birthday, he said he didn't want a party, so Maryse just took him to get his permit, and then they went straight home. Being the good friend she is, Clary invited Jace over for cake and presents. Jace took a little more convincing than usual, but eventually he agreed to come over for a few hours.

Jocelyn pulled out all the stops to make Jace's favorite cake: vanilla with chocolate frosting. She even drove an hour to go to the store that carries the type of frosting he likes.

Maryse and Robert had given him his present earlier-a new car. They could easily afford it, but Jace still felt bad accepting it. Clary had worked all summer trying to save for a car, and here he was being handed one. However, he did have his suspicions that the car was an attempt at buying him off so they wouldn't have to spend the night with him.

Jocelyn and Luke gave Jace his present while they were eating cake. It was a huge box, which made Jace extremely wary. He couldn't possibly allow Jocelyn and Luke to spend a lot of money on him, even if they were the closest thing he had to parents.

He unwrapped the huge box and opened it. "It's empty," he stated dumbly.

Luke was laughing and Jocelyn shook her head. "No it isn't. Look at the bottom."

Jace gave her a funny look, but complied nonetheless. He stuck his head in the box and reached an arm all the way down to the bottom. His fingers brushed against something and he pulled it out. It was a slip of paper with the words, _We helped Clary_, written on it.

Jace looked up at the three smiling faces and quirked an eyebrow. "I don't understand…?"

Clary laughed. "Maybe you should open my gift now."

Jace took the small package out of her hand and carefully took the paper off. Inside, was a brand new iPhone. Jace's eyes nearly popped right out of his head. "Clary-" he protested.

Clary was already shaking her head. "No way. You're keeping it. I worked all summer, which took away from my time with you, so I'm spending some of the money on you. Besides, Mom and Luke helped me with it."

Understanding clicked in Jace's mind. "Oh. That makes sense now." Jace looked at three of the people he loved most in turn. "Thank you, guys. Seriously. You didn't have to do this."

Jocelyn stood up and walked over to where Jace was sitting. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "Of course we did, honey! You're our favorite child!"

"Hey!" Clary protested.

Jocelyn simply laughed and ruffled Jace's hair. "You're welcome, Jace. Happy birthday."

Jocelyn walked past him into her bedroom. Luke followed after her, clapping Jace on the shoulder as he passed. "Happy birthday, kid."

"Thank you!" Jace called over his shoulder. He turned back to Clary. "Thank you."

Clary smiled and plopped herself down on the couch next to Jace. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "You are so welcome."

Jace hugged her back. They were both silent for a few moments before Jace worked up the courage to say what was on his mind. "You know I'm sixteen now, right?"

Clary laughed as she stretched out, placing her legs in Jace's lap. "Yes. I'm aware."

Jace picked at a loose thread in her jeans. "Do you know what that means?"

Clary played dumb. "You can drive?"

Jace gave Clary a stern look.

Clary sighed. "You're free to go back to being all over girls."

"Thank you. For keeping me from being a man whore at age thirteen."

Clary rolled her eyes. "Don't thank me. Now you're just going to be a man whore at sixteen." Jace flinched, and Clary immediately regretted her words. "Oh, Jace. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Jace shook his head. "Don't apologize. I'm actually leaving in a few because I have a date."

Clary sat up and looked Jace in the eyes. "I still mean what I said, Jace. I know you do this because they make you feel loved, but you do have people that love you. Me, my parents, Alec, Izzy, Max-they all love you. Hell, even Simon loves you, even though he would never admit it. And even though it doesn't always seem like it, Maryse and Robert love you too."

Jace swallowed. "I know. But that doesn't change anything."

Clary stood up and brushed off her pants. "I didn't think it would." Jace stood up too and she opened her arms for a hug. "Have fun," she mumbled into his chest.

Jace pulled back and winked. "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Clary grinned. "Just like every other Saturday in existence."

Jace gave Clary one last good natured eye roll before he strolled out the door. Clary was sad to see him go, because she knew that he wouldn't be exactly the same the next time he walked through that door.

But she would stick by his side because no girl would ever truly change Jace.

**XXXXXXX**

**I remembered what else I was going to say last chapter! Okay, so I'm sorry that I'm kind of making Maryse (is that wrong? is it Mayrse? Because I always second guess myself. Please clarify!) and Robert out to be evil, but it just fits for the story. Plus, they're kind of neglecting in canon, so I felt like it made sense. Don't get me wrong, they DO love Jace, but it's hard for them to give him the attention he needs, and they do put their own children above him sometimes. Just wanted to clarify that.**

**SO, I know I've been updating daily so far, and I'll try to keep that up, but I'm highly doubting an update tomorrow. I have the next chapter started, but I can't finish it tomorrow. But that's because our Varisty Field Hockey team is in the championship game for Section III Class D and I HAVE to go support them! I'm so pumped! GO WARRIORS! But, I may stay up late to finish if you guys review like crazy and find a way to convince me?**

**Love always,**

**YesIWriteForFun**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hey, guys! Sorry that it's been a little longer than normal since my last update, but here's what I've been up to since last time: Wednesday: I went to our varisty field hockey game, and guess what! WE ARE NEW YORK STATE SECTION III CLASS D CHAMPIONS! WOO! Thursday: I had to get my hair cut then do a butt load of creative writing homework. Friday: I had friends over to watch scary movies...we watched The Blare Witch Project...I don't do well with scary movies... Saturday: Another field hockey game, but we lost :/ then I came home and I actually DID work on this! Just not enough to update... So, if you were wondering why I've been MIA for a few days, that is why. For this story, I'm really going to try to update every day, but...life happens, haha.**

**This is the first Jace POV, actual part of the story chapter! Yay! Super excited!**

**Disclaimer: My name doesn't even rhyme with Cassandra Clare.**

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 5:**

"Jesus, Clary!" I woke up to the shrieking of Jocelyn.

Clary bolted upright in bed, shrugging off my arm that had been slung over her stomach. I groaned and rolled over, determined to stay asleep for as long as possible. "Mom!" Clary exclaimed.

"I told you two before-no sleeping in the same bed! One of you in the bed, the other on the floor or else one of you sleeps in Jonathan's room!" All this shouting was making it pretty hard to sleep, but I'd be damned if I'd let that interfere with the only peaceful sleep I'll get for a while. "And Jace Herondale don't you _dare_ think I'm stupid enough to believe you're actually asleep right now!"

I groaned again and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "Okay, okay," I mumbled. "I'm up."

"Mom-" Clary was trying to make a case for us. How cute.

"No, Clary. I mean it this time. The next time I find you two in the same bed, you're sleeping in separate rooms. If that doesn't work, then one of you will be sleeping between Luke and I." With that, she stormed out of the room.

I couldn't help it - I laughed at the idea of seventeen year old Clary sleeping in the same bed as Jocelyn and Luke.

"I wouldn't be laughing, Jace," Jocelyn called from the hall. "Luke and I could easily fit you in our king size bed."

That shut me up. Clary stuck her tongue out at me, and I of course, flipped her off in response.

She gasped in mock horror. "I'm telling!" she whisper-yelled.

She started to climb off the bed, but I wrapped an arm around her waist stop her. "Like hell you are," I growled. "I'm already in deep enough shit with your mom!"

Clary laughed and shoved me away. "She'll get over it. Now put on a shirt so we can go get breakfast."

I pouted. "Why can't I eat breakfast shirtless?"

Clary gave me a look. "Um, I'll lose my appetite, and I'm pretty sure my mom and Luke feel the same way."

She kind of had a point. I didn't really want to sit with her parents while I was shirtless. "Fine." I grabbed my shirt from where I threw it last night and shrugged it on over my head.

Clary stood in the doorway, tapping her foot. "I'm hungry! Hurry up!"

I rolled my eyes and walked toward the door at a deliberately slow pace. "I _am _hurrying, Clary! I don't know what you're talking about."

Clary groaned and stormed out the door. "Since you're apparently five, I'm eating your pancakes!"

No way that was happening! I sprinted out into the hallway and shoved her out of the way, only stopping once I reached the kitchen. I leaned casually against the counter and painted myself with an impatient demeanor.

After a minute Clary came walking in, a scowl on her face and a hand rubbing her arm. I would've felt bad if I didn't know that she was being completely melodramatic.

"What took you so long?" I asked. Clary made a very rude gesture and I clicked my tongue. "That isn't very lady like."

"What took me so long, is that I almost got my head bashed in by some maniac freak!"

"Clary!" Jocelyn chided. "Save the bickering for a time when everyone is more awake, please. Now, Luke and I have to run to the shop. Do you guys need anything while we're out?" By "shop" they meant the bookstore they own together down the street.

Clary shook her head. I plastered an innocent smile on my face. "No, thank you, Mrs. Fray. But that's awfully nice of you to offer."

Jocelyn narrowed her eyes and pointed a long index finger at me. "I stopped buying your shit ten years ago, Jace. You're still on thin ice."

Clary snorted. "Yes, ma'am," I said. With one last stern look, Jocelyn and Luke were out the door.

Being the kind woman she was, Jocelyn left us a heaving stack of pancakes, one quarter without M&Ms-for Clary-and three quarters with M&Ms-for me. I didn't hesitate before I dove into the stack and poured syrup all over my pancakes. I shoveled forkful after forkful into my mouth, barely pausing to breath. "Oh my, God," I moaned. "I am in love with your mother."

Clary swatted me on the back of my head as she sat down next to me. "A: Never say that again. B: How do you eat like that and still have a six pack?"

I pause long enough to wink at Clary. "I work hard to keep my body up for the ladies."

Clary rolled her eyes-she seemed to be extra sarcastic this morning. "Yeah, sure. Speaking of, how did your date go Friday night? What was her name again?" Clary's voice was the usual concoction is became when we spoke of girls I was with; half genuinely curious and half annoyed.

I thought back to Friday. "Um…Christie? Yeah, Christie. It was okay. She was hotter than Hell, but had the most annoying voice. Ugh, I wanted to stab her in the vocal chords."

Clary cocked an eyebrow at me. "Will there be a second date?"

I refused to look up as I answered her. "Is there ever?"

It was a rhetorical question, followed by a rare circumstance between Clary and I-an uncomfortable silence. I knew Clary wanted me to stop with that whole new girl every week thing, but she would never just come right out and say it. She hated what the people at school said about me, how girls called me a man whore, a pimp, a jerk, and many more crude names. It bothered her a whole lot more than it bothered me, so I wasn't going to give it up. Besides, it wasn't like she had ever asked me to stop with the girls. Well, once and I did listen to her that time. I kept up my end of the deal.

"Hey," I said suddenly, pushing my now clean plate away. "Did I tell you that I'm getting a tattoo?"

Clary choked on her coffee. "Excuse me?"

I grinned, loving that I caught her off guard. "I'm eighteen now, so I don't need a parent's permission. Saturday, I'm getting a tattoo."

Clary's brow furrowed in thought. "What are you going to get?"

I rubbed the back of my neck uncomfortably. I hated asking her for things. "Well, that's what I wanted to ask you about. You're such an amazing artist, Clary, I was hoping you would design it for me? You're really the only artist I would trust to put their design on my body."

Clary was looking at me with wide, watery eyes and an open mouth.

"Um, it's okay to say no…," I said after a few minutes of silence.

"No!" Clary exclaimed, making me jump back a little. "I mean, no," she said a little more calmly. "I really want to do it. I'm just so honored, I'm speechless."

I laughed. "Guess there really is a first time for everything."

Clary pinched my bicep before wrapping her tiny arms tightly around my neck. "This is like, the biggest honor for an artist," she mumbled into my skin, sending out tiny vibrations like ripples in a pond.

I laughed lightly. "It's nothing, Clary. I didn't do anything."

Clary's huge grin made my heart damn near melt. "So, what do you want?"

I swallowed, hard. "Well, I mean, nothing concrete. All I know I want for sure is my parents' names."

Clary gave me a look I was familiar with. It said, 'WARNING: I'm about to ask you a question you don't really want to hear!' "I'm assuming you don't mean Robert and Maryse?"

I nodded. "No, I don't mean them. I mean my parents, Stephen and Celine."

"Wait!" Without further explanation, Clary shoved her chair back and ran out of the room. She came back moments later with her sketchbook, her pencils, a legal pad and a pen. She scribbled a few things down on the paper before peeking up at me. "How do you spell your parents' names?"

"Stephen. S-T-E-P-H-E-N." I pause. "Celine. C-E-L-I-N-E."

Clary nodded and kept on scribbling. It was another few minutes before she looked up at me again. "Do you want their date of," she hesitated, but only for a split-second, "death on it?"

I thought about it for a good few minutes, so long, in fact, that I'm sure Clary got annoyed with me. Finally, I said, "I want this tattoo so I can remember my parents. I have to accept that part of remembering them, is remembering that they're dead. Yeah, I want their date of death." I didn't hesitate to get the words out.

Clary nodded and that was that. She just kept scribbling and scribbling, and eventually she moved on to sketching. I had sat there for about twenty minutes of it, but then I got pretty restless. I got up and started cleaning up the dishes. I rinsed them off in the sink and then carefully stacked them all in the dishwasher. After that was done, Clary was still drawing, so I went to go get changed.

When I was changed and my teeth were brushed, Clary was still drawing. I gave up at that point and just flopped myself down on the couch and flipped the TV on. It was already on some 90s sitcom, and since I was still exhausted from Jocelyn waking us up early, I let it play and closed my eyes.

I woke up sometime later to Clary shaking me, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of me. "What are you doing?" I yawned.

Clary grinned. "I have a draft done. Wanna see?"

I sat upright. "Of course!"

Clary paused. "Remember, it is just an idea, so if you don't like it-"

"Oh, shut up and show me," I interjected.

Clary flipped open her sketchbook and handed it to me. I stared down at the page, unable to form any words that could possibly describe the beauty of her image. She had drawn an old fashioned pocket watch, and it was opened. On the lid, my parents' names were engraved in gorgeous script, and their date of death below that. The hands on the watch pointed to no specific time, because she made them look broken and hanging down loose.

I swallowed the small lump that had lodged itself in my throat. "Clary," I whispered. "It's perfect. Thank you."

I set her book on the coffee table and reached down to wrap my arms firmly around her. "You like it?" she asked. "I made the hands like that because, well, this sounds cheesy, but I wanted it to show that they were like, immortal in a way. Like your love for them is timeless."

"It's perfect," I whispered into her hair. "Thank you."

Clary pulled away from me. "Well, it isn't perfect yet, but once I keep working on it, it will be."

I gave Clary a soft smile. "Can you do me a favor?"

Clary returned the smile. "Anything."

"When you do finish it, can you sign it?"

Clary laughed and got up so she could sit on the couch with me. "Why?"

I shrugged, attempting to be nonchalant. "I may want to frame it."

Clary bought it. "Okay, whatever. Where do you think you're going to get it?"

I rolled my sleeve up and pointed to the bicep on my left arm. "Here."

Clary nodded. "That's a good spot. And it's good because the size I drew it should fit. You are aware that the tattoo artist may change my design a little to make it fit your body, right?"

I shook my head. "I won't let that happen. Trust me. Just make sure it's finished by Saturday, if you can. Did you want to go with me to get it?"

Clary bit her lip. "I don't know…Needles make me squeamish."

I gave her my best puppy dog face. "Please?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But if I pass out, it's _so_ your fault."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

I was completely freaking out the entire morning Saturday. My appointment was at two, and Clary wasn't picking me up until one-thirty. That left me with three and a half hours to freak out until Clary got here. I knew I would feel way better once she got here. I had asked her if she could come _any_ earlier, but she had some stupid chemistry project to do with Simon.

I didn't want Robert and Maryse to know I was getting a tattoo, because they would try to stop me. I was eighteen, so I legally didn't need their permission to get one, but that wouldn't matter to them. They hated tattoos and out of the ordinary piercings, so that was why I was going to wait until after the tattoo was permanently on my body to tell them about it.

I was trying to hide how much I was freaking out so that no one would get suspicious-everyone just thought Clary was picking me up to run some errands before we had our normal Saturday night routine. Apparently, I sucked as an actor because Izzy was totally getting suspicious. She kept watching me out of the corner of her eye and giving me weird looks whenever I did something.

She hadn't said anything by one o'clock, so I thought I was home free. Nope.

"Okay, what is wrong with you? You're like a rabbit on cocaine right now," Izzy asked from her place across from me at the table.

I gave her my best 'what are you talking about?' look. "Nothing, really. Guess I'm just excited to see Clary." Just then, the doorbell rang, echoing through our excessively sized house. I jumped up and shoved my chair out of the way. "That's probably her, actually. I'll get it." God bless that girl and her need to be on time or early to everything.

I practically ran to the door and flung it open, sighing in relief when I saw my favorite redhead standing behind it. "Hey!" Clary said. "Sorry I'm early-"

"Don't even think about apologizing for being early. Actually, we should get out of here. Like now."

Clary gave me a funny look. "But I wanted to see Izzy…"

"Clary!" Izzy shrieked from the other room. "Get in here!"

Clary had the decency to shoot me an apologetic look before strolling into our kitchen. "Hi, Iz."

Izzy looked past Clary to me, as she addressed Clary. "Jace has been acting weird all day. Do you know what's up with him?"

I am so glad I warned Clary ahead of time to keep this on the down-low. On the other hand, Clary is an even worse liar than I am.

"Um…" Clary fumbled. "I don't know. Isn't he always weird?"

Not bad-for Clary, anyway.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Touché."

"We should really get going, right, Clary?" I interjected before our luck ran out.

Clary nodded. "He's right. I'll see you Monday, Iz!"

Izzy waved. "Bye, Clary. Oh, and Jace?"

I turned back to look nervously at my adoptive sister. She gave me a sympathetic smile. "I have no idea what you're about to go do, but don't worry-I won't tell."

I blinked, taken aback by the kindness of Izzy. Maybe her and Alec did see that Robert and Maryse treated me different. Maybe they didn't-I don't know-but, in that moment, Izzy and I formed a connection that we didn't have before. "Thank you, Iz. Really."

Izzy's smile turned more lighthearted. "Just go!"

I returned Isabelle's smile and jogged after Clary out the door. I was feeling less nervous already. Kind of.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**Thanks for reading, everyone! Let me know what you thought! If you guys have any suggestions, about this story, or like, anything, just let me know! I'm very open! What did you guys think of my Jace POV? Predictions? Do you guys want to see Sizzy and/or Malec in this story? Let me know!**

**Love always,**

**YesIWriteForFun**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, everybody! (insert that voice of the sketchy doctor in The Simpsons) Have I mentioned lately that I am LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU ALL?! WILL YOU ALL MARRY ME?! Not really, I'm taken. But you guys are super awesome! I read you guys' reviews and I want to cry because you guys are so darn sweet! And all your predictions and whatnot crack me up. This may have been up yesterday, but I kind of recently got addicted to this show called Reign and...yeah...I'm addicted. It's not pretty. But, it is here now! Even though I wore gloves while writing this because my dad really needs to turn the heat up...Enjoy!**

**Okay, not to sound creepy, but for all my fellow Americans, would you guys be interested in leaving a review, just saying what state you live in? I'm from New York (NOT the city) and I feel like a lot of people who's stories I read are from New York too. It just got me curious. **

**Disclaimer: I seriously almost said something about Richelle Mead...well...TMI doesn't belong to me or her!**

**XXXXXX**

**Chapter 6:**

I was seriously seconds away from punching this receptionist. Clary sensed my anger and put a reassuring-or possibly restricting-hand on my arm.

"What's your name again?" the receptionist asked around a mouthful of gum as she clicked her fake nails against the counter.

"Jace Herondale," I repeated. This chick couldn't have been any older than me, but she was dumber than a box of rocks.

She was still squinting at the book in front of her when a middle aged man with a tight buzz cut of black hair, and tattoos up and down both arms came strolling in from the back room. "Sarah, will you tell me when my-oh! I'm guessing you're my two o'clock?"

I sighed, glad to finally be able to speak to an intelligent individual. "I am," I confirmed, sticking my hand out. "I'm Jace."

The man clasped my hand firmly and shook. Even his knuckles were tattooed. "Tom. Pleasure to meet you." He eyed Clary. "Moral support?"

Clary's laughter twinkled around the tiny shop. "I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'll sure try."

Tom laughed as well. "Oh, Jace, can I see some ID? Just to make sure you're eighteen." I pulled out my wallet and showed him my license. Tom squinted at it for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Come back here and we'll get a design started for you."

I turned to Clary. "You can stay out here until the tattoo starts, if you want."

Clary hesitated, but then nodded. "Sure. Just let me know."

Thank God. She couldn't see the tattoo before it was on my body and completed. I followed Tom into the back room and sat down across from him at a desk.

Tom put on glasses and clapped his hands together. "Well, what were you thinking that you wanted?"

I pulled out the design Clary made and laid it out on the desk. "This, as close to the original design as you can get it."

Tom pulled it toward him and squinted at it for a few moments, nodding every now and again. Finally, he looked up at me from under his brow. "You draw this?"

I let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, right. No, I don't have an ounce of artistic ability in me. That girl out there-Clary-she drew it."

Tom smirked and quirked an eyebrow at me. "How long have you two been together?"

I blinked in surprise. I mean, it wasn't the first time someone thought Clary and I were a couple, but it still shook me a little every time I heard it. "No. I mean-we aren't-we're just friends. Since we were in kindergarten."

Tom nodded. "That's nice. Wish that would rub off on my daughter out there." He shook his head. "She's got a new guy every week, and then sobs over each of them."

I laughed a little, but felt uncomfortable, not wanting him to think I was making fun of his daughter.

Tom focused his attention back on the design for a few minutes. Then he nodded once and looked up at me. "Yeah, I think I can actually keep the tattoo real close to this. I can basically trace it, maybe fix something up here or there, but, yeah. Yeah, this will turn out real nice. Where do you want it?"

I couldn't tell whether he was talking to himself or me for about half of that conversation. "My bicep." I gestured to the bicep of my left arm.

Tom stood and took a few measurements. Then he stepped back and I stood up. "This will take me about fifteen minutes to draw up for you. You can wait out there and I'll come out when it's done. Sound good?"

I nodded. "Awesome. Thanks. But, there's one more thing-do you see her signature down there?"

Tom squinted to where I pointed, then nodded.

"Is there anyway you can put it in the corner of the tattoo, like she signed her piece of work?"

Tom gave me a smile full of understanding. His smile said, I've been there before, buddy, and there's hope. "I can definitely do that." Tom clapped my back and I strolled out into the makeshift lobby with a grin on my face.

Clary stood as soon as I entered. "How'd it go? Is he going to change it a lot?"

I plopped down onto the vintage couch and patted the spot next to me. Clary sat down and bit her thumbnail-something she does when she's nervous. "Not one bit," I told her as I pulled her thumb away from her mouth. She blushed and grinned sheepishly. "Well, he said maybe a touch-up here or there, but nothing really. Oh, and he told me that you did a great job on it."

Clary's blushed only deepened at the compliment. "Well, that's good. I know you didn't want to change it."

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, filled only by the sound of my foot bouncing against the tiled floor. And don't forget the occasional snap of Sarah's gum. After about five minutes, someone finally spoke up. "This your first tattoo or something?" Sarah asked.

I froze my foot and looked up at Sarah. She was focused on her magazine, not looking at me, but obviously expecting an answer. I cleared my throat nervously. "Um, yeah. It is."

Sarah smirked at her magazine. "Don't be so nervous. Seriously, it doesn't hurt _that_ bad. Unless you're getting it on your skull." She looked at me with slightly narrowed eyes. "Which I'm guessing you aren't, judging by your long, golden locks."

Clary snorted from beside me and I elbowed her lightly in the ribs. "No, I'm getting it on my bicep."

Sarah nodded, again to her magazine. "That's not a bad spot. Seriously, just sit back, relax, and chill till it's over. My dad's really good at making it go by fast."

I nodded. "Thanks." I'm glad I didn't punch her.

It took about another five minutes for Tom to come back. "Alright," he proclaimed. "You ready to see it?"

I jumped up, not wanting Clary to see it incase she saw the signature part. I looked down at his tracing of Clary's image. "Wow," I said. "That looks exactly like the original."

Tom grinned. "I know, right? I should do this for a living." Behind him Sarah snorted. "Watch it," he called. He turned to Clary and handed her the original. "You are a very talented artist, young lady. If you ever decide to become a tattoo artist, my door is open."

Clary laughed. "Thanks, but I really wasn't leaning that way. Needles make me squeamish."

Tom led us to the back room as he spoke. "I understand. It really isn't for everyone. Alright, Jace, roll your sleeve up as far as it will go and sit down in this chair here. Great. Now I'm just going to tape it up so that it won't fall down while I'm tattooing. Perfect." I did as he asked and waited for further instruction. He put gloves on and started messing with something behind him. He turned back around, holding shaving cream and a disposable razor. "Sorry, but I can't tattoo over hair." I nodded and he made quick work of shaving off the light arm hair that covered my bicep. Once that was finished, he had to place the outline of the tattoo on my bicep.

Clary had been standing to my left, where she could see the tattoo, but I wouldn't let her see it before it was permanent. "Clary," I said, maybe a little too loudly-my nerves were really starting to get to me. "Do you wanna come sit over here?" I gestured to the chair that was on my right.

Clary bit her lip, watching Tom for a moment more, then nodded. She took her time and sat herself down next to me, wheeling the chair as close as it would come. Without a word, she grabbed my hand and squeezed.

"So, Clary," Tom said as he got his equipment all set up. "How'd you learn to draw like that?" And then he turned it on and set the needle to my skin.

It wasn't as bad as I had feared, but that isn't to say it didn't hurt. I knew I would have to sit here for hours, and the prospect of that combined with the immediate pain made it seem too daunting. I needed a distraction, so I completely focused all of my attention on Clary.

She had taken on that small smile she gets whenever she talks about art. But it was off-she was obviously worried about me. I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Well, my mother is an artist," she told Tom.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that so? What's her medium?"

"Mostly painting, but she draws too, and I've seen her sculpt once or twice."

Tom nodded. "What about you?"

Clary's smile broadened a little. She was so damn passionate about art. Anytime it was brought up she took on this glow that almost made it hard to look at her. Like a too close star. "I draw a lot, but I paint a little too. Sculpting, however, I totally suck at."

Tom laughed as he wiped excess ink off my arm. "You and me both, honey. It's like you put a three dimensional object in my hands and I lose all artistic ability."

Clary laughed and the music eased my nerves a little. "Exactly!"

Tom wiped my arm again and looked up to catch my eye. "How you doing, man? I know the first one's always tough."

I almost shrugged, but then remembered that may not be the best idea. "I'm alright. I honestly expected worse."

Tom laughed. "You aren't the first to say that. Your mind can be your best ally or your worst enemy. Do you mind if I ask why you wanted this design?"

"The design was all Clary. I just told her I wanted my parents' names and she ran with it."

Tom nodded. "So Stephen and Celine are your parents? That's pretty nice of you to get a tattoo for them. Most people your age come in here and only want a boyfriend or girlfriend's name."

I swallowed and looked away. I wasn't particularly fond of explaining what happened to my parents. I caught Clary's eye and she immediately understood. I needed her to explain for me.

I know this sounds weird, but I liked it when Clary told the story. She made it all seem so…rational. She didn't let emotions get involved into it, she simply stated what happened. It really helped me get my own emotions in check.

"His parents died in a car crash when he was ten. Drunk driver going the wrong way on an icy road," she said quietly.

Tom stopped tattooing and looked up at me. "That really sucks, man. I'm sorry I brought it up."

I shook my head. "It's alright. I'm doing this to remember them. I can't hide it forever."

Tom went back to the tattoo. "Good for you. That's a really brave-and mature-thing to do."

Clary squeezed my hand again.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The tattoo took four hours. The shading was the worst part of it, but it was done soon after that. I sagged in relief when Tom turned off his machine and said, "You ready to see it?"

I nodded and stood up. Clary tried to walk around me but I stopped her. "You don't get to see it until I do." She rolled her eyes. We walked over the full length mirror he had across the room, still hand in hand. I kept my right side facing the mirror and turned to Clary. "You ready?" She nodded. I turned and gasped. It was beautiful. It was golden and he made it look like it was shining, yet still dull with age. He perfectly captured the effect of the broken hands. And he replicated Clary's signature flawlessly.

Clary had gasped too, a delicate hand flying to her mouth. "It's so beautiful," she said.

Tom laughed and walked up behind us. "Thank you, though that's a lot on you too."

Clary was still staring at the design in the mirror. Then she suddenly squinted at it. "You did not!" She ran around me to look at the real tattoo. She gasped and pointed directly at her copied script. "Jonathan Christopher Herondale, you sneaky little-"

I laughed. "You don't like it?"

"It's embarrassing!" she hissed.

Tom put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be embarrassed to put your name on your work. It's wonderful."

She shook her head, adamant. "But it's not-"

Tom gave her a smile similar to the one I'd received earlier. "Yes, it is. I just traced your picture and colored it. This," he gestured to my arm, "is all from your head. That's impressive."

Clary was so red she could give a tomato a run for it's money. "Thank you," she said.

Tom clapped my back. "We just have to get this covered up and then you're all set. It wasn't too bad was it?"

I shrugged. "No, not really. Not enough to stop me from getting another."

"That's what I like to hear!" He covered my tattoo with a piece of black plastic stuff and gave me all the instructions on how to take care of it. Then I handed him over the $300 I had been saving up for this. He handed it to Sarah, and she put it in a cash register, writing something down next to my name in their books.

Finally, he walked Clary and I to the door. "You're a good kid, Jace. If you ever need anything-and I don't just meant another tattoo-you know where I'm at. And you," he turned to Clary, "you let me know if you ever change your mind about being a tattoo artist."

Clary laughed. "Will do."

I gave Tom a 'bro-hug' as Clary often calls it. "Thank, man. Really."

Sarah snapped her gum from the counter. "Bye, guys!"

We both waved and walked out the door.

As soon as we were in the car Clary glared at me. "You're a sneaky bastard, you know that?"

I winked at her. "I've been called worse."

Clary turned the car on, and the engine and her laugh purred together in harmony. "Oh, trust me-I know."

**XXXXXXXXX**

**So, I'm going to go watch Reign now because it is so flippin good! But if any of you watch it already, NO SPOILERS! I'm only like, six episodes in. Anyway, please let me know what you thought! You're reviews all make my day! And don't forget to say what state you're from! Or country, if you aren't from the US-It'd be cool if I had a bunch of foreign followers!**

**I've been having a hard time getting into a fan fiction story, so if you guys review, I'll go to your profiles and check out your stories! But only if I know the things they're about, obviously. **

**Love always,**

**YesIWriteForFun**


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